Ma Mère Chantait Toujours
by Bvv31389
Summary: Post-Theatricality. Rachel and Quinn talk about mothers, daughters, and the lack thereof.


**A/N** : This didn't turn out like I wanted, and I don't really know if I like it or even if it's IC, but I was annoyed at the opportunity the show missed and wanted to do something about it. Title is the first line of a song my mom used to sing as a lullaby to my sisters and me. It's about a mother singing old love songs to her daughter that her own mother sang to her, and knowing that the daughter will grow up, leave, and sing the same songs to her own daughter. That specific line loosely translates to "My mother was always singing".

* * *

Rachel sat at the piano in the choir room, hands listlessly ghosting over the keys. For a fleeting moment, she wished she knew how to play, but the thought faded away as soon as it came. Her mind had been a whirlwind of thoughts since her duet with Shelby (_with your mother_, whispered a small voice in her mind, _with your mom_, mumbled another, _with a stranger_, screamed the most persistent voice) a few hours ago and she couldn't seem to focus on anything.

She heard the door behind her open and shuffling footsteps coming her way. She stopped moving her hands but kept her eyes on the piano keys. The footsteps stopped a few feet from her and the person seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, then Rachel heard a deep breath being drawn and suddenly a very pregnant, blonde teenager was sitting next to her.

Rachel looked up from the piano in slight surprise, but Quinn's eyes were staring at a spot on the wall in front of her. Rachel briefly wondered why the other girl would seek her out until her eyes drifted down to Quinn's belly.

_Oh._

Quinn had picked up the habit of holding her belly in the past few months, consciously or not Rachel didn't know, and she was doing it now, one arm cradling the baby bump protectively while the other was rubbing circles on her stomach. The gesture looked affectionate and Rachel wondered if Shelby (_mothermomstranger_) had done the same when she was pregnant with her. Her throat tightened at the thought.

"Do you wish things were different?" Quinn blurted out suddenly, startling Rachel out of her thoughts. She looked back up to Quinn's face, but the taller girl was still staring at the wall.

"Different how?" She thought she knew what Quinn meant, but she wanted to hear it. Maybe hearing it would help her figure out the answer.

"Different like... Do you wish she'd been there all your life? Do you wish she'd tried harder to get to know you? Do you wish you had a mom? Do you... just... " There was an underlying urgency in Quinn's voice, a mix of fear and need and hope that wrapped itself around Rachel's heart and squeezed painfully. The last part came out in a whisper. "Do you resent her for not wanting you?"

Rachel hissed in a breath at that, and Quinn's eyes widened, her head turning and catching Rachel's gaze for a fraction of a second before the brunette broke eye contact and frowned at the piano. "No, I didn't mean it like that, I'm sor-"

"Why do you want to know?" Rachel ground out, not wanting to hear the other girl's apology. She noticed that the hand that had been rubbing circles on Quinn's baby bump had stopped and was slowly tightening into a fist.

"I just... I'm, I'm going to give her up for adoption." Quinn's gaze had returned to the same spot on the wall, face carefully blank. Rachel watched the knuckles on her fist whiten. "I can't take care of a baby, and neither can Puck, and we're just _so young_ and she's going to need –" Quinn stopped and took a shaky breath, and finished in a soft voice. "I just don't want her to hate me for it."

Rachel hesitated. "We're not exactly what one would call close, Quinn, and I would normally not even entertain the thought of confiding in you, but..." Her eyes drifted up to the golden cross Quinn still wore around her neck and her mind flashed back to a tape still sitting in her drawers, to a voice that had felt like a punch in the gut, to everything Quinn had gone through in the last months, to the entire Glee club singing to a crying Quinn to keep holding on, and she sighed.

_I dreamed that God would be forgiving. I had a dream my life would be so different from this hell I'm living._

_'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you._

"I'm not going to lie, Quinn. It hurts. It hurts so much to think that I'm not what she wants. It feels like it's my fault, like I did something wrong because she wanted to meet me, she did, and now that she knows me she doesn't want to know me anymore." She saw Quinn's jaw muscles clench and took a deep breath. "But... I don't resent her. I understand her motivations and her point of view, and she's right. She wants a baby, and I'm not a baby anymore. Also, I have my dads, and both of them are wonderfully devoted and have always provided all the love and stability I ever needed. I think she knows that, and I'd like to think it's one of the reasons she doesn't want to be my mom. I already have a family. It's too late for us. I don't know if that's what you wanted to hear, but you asked and you know I've never been one to hide the truth before, so I don't see why I should start now."

They both lapsed into silence. Quinn's body was still tense next to her, and Rachel thought maybe the truth wasn't what Quinn needed after all, but after a few moments the blonde let out a long breath, relaxed and started to speak.

"I never thought I'd be grateful for your annoying tendency to speak too much and too bluntly, but... I am. Thank you. For not sugarcoating anything. It's not what I was hoping for, but... nothing about this has been what I hoped for." She gestured vaguely towards her rounded belly and gave Rachel a sad half-smile. She rose from the bench and headed towards the door after Rachel had muttered an awkward "You're welcome" but turned back before she reached the exit. "Rachel?"

Rachel looked up, wondering if maybe this was the longest conversation they'd ever had as Quinn spoke. "It's not your fault. That she doesn't want to reconnect with you. I know it's not really my place, but you said you felt it was your fault and... please don't believe that. You didn't do anything wrong." Quinn's eyes were boring into hers and she looked so earnest and so sad that for a moment Rachel remembered why she had tried so hard to reach out to her when she was still a Cheerio spying on the Glee club for Coah Sylvester. She felt her throat burn and she shakily nodded, not trusting her voice and not wanting to cry in front of Quinn Fabray, no matter how different they both were from the people they'd been at the beginning of the school year. Quinn gave her a last, lingering look and left.

Rachel was surprised to find the whirlwind of thoughts in her head had calmed down, a little.


End file.
